


Curiosity

by GrumpSupport



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Questioning Sexuality, Young Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8760274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpSupport/pseuds/GrumpSupport
Summary: Hanzo Shimada was a busy heir to an empire at 18-years-old- no time for silly distractions. Study, do well in school, become a trained killer, and settle down with a normal family. That is what his father wanted for him. But Hanzo did not think about the roadblock that hit him out of nowhere. Suddenly, everything would change once a young Cowboy wiggled his way into his life.





	1. Chapter 1

“Genji!” Hanzo knocked loudly on his brothers’ door. “Get up, or you’ll be late again.” He shook his head, buttoning the last couple buttons of his shirt. He checked a second time to make sure that everything he needed was there. It had been 2 months since he came to this school. His father took up a new project abroad, and he and Genji had to come along while the delegates of the Shimada-clan dealt with family affairs. Hanzo and Genji were to finish their high school education in a private school in the West of America. Hanzo was not particularly happy about this, as he was preparing to take his fathers place as the head of the Shimada-Clan. He was largely focused on his education, and making himself the most well-rounded he could possibly be. For an 18-year-old, it seemed like he was underachieving internally, but externally many of his elders thought him to be a very successful and dedicated man. He had the potential to be the most successful head of the Shimada-clan since its third ‘emperor’ (Who ruled an actual province in the feudal times).

Hanzo put black socks on, picked up his bag and made his way out to the foyer and began walking down the stairs as Genjis door opened. Hanzo looked at his young brother, green haired and drowsy. “You will be late if you do not hurry…” Hanzo nagged.

“Yes, mother.” Genji remarked sarcastically, yawning and rubbing his weak eyes.

Hanzo smirked. “Humph, perhaps partying incessantly is not the brightest idea on Sunday nights, brother.” Genji stuck out his tongue in a taunting manner as he made his way towards the stairs and into the bathroom. Hanzo gave him a small nudge in his abdomen with a fist and chuckled. “Hurry up.”

Hanzo made toast for himself, and studied his English book of classical poetry carefully as he ate. He had already done all of the study work he needed to, but he continued in part because of his interest in the topic, and in part because he wanted to be sure he knew the material. A few minutes passed before Genji was downstairs, in his uniform. Hanzo pointed to the two mugs on the countertop. Genji nodded, and poured hot water from the instant-heater into them both, mixing coffee into one and tea into another. Grabbing his own toast, Genji sat down next to his brother with toast gripped between his lips. He puts the cups down and chuckles, observing his brother.

Hanzo took notice. “What is entertaining?” He sips from the mug he was given; he grimaces. “Wrong mug.” He says, replacing it with the other one. “You’re always just doing things… Always working and never going out and actually living, brother.” Genji said, to which Hanzo nodded, taking another sip and eying his brother.

“Yes, Genji, that is what is expected of me… I must uphold the Shimada-clans wishes. I have responsibility; something you would not know of.” Genji shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t know,” He laughed and nodded agreeing, “I’m not the eldest.” He rose from his spot, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door. “Man, Japanese traditions really suck.” He remarked rather sarcastically. “See you later, brother.” He slipped his shoes on and ran out the door. Hanzo was left to his lonesome, shaking his head. “What a waste.”

Hanzo made it to school with a couple of minutes to spare. He sat in his homeroom in the same spot as every day and continued reading his poems.

A couple of girls from Genjis grade came waltzing in, eager to see the older Shimada brother. They walked up with their short skirts, long hair, and large busts that had obviously been bumped up with a push-up. Hanzo paid no mind to them until one of them cleared her throat in an attempt to get his attention.

“Oh, Claire. Excuse my absent-mindedness. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked. He didn’t much like talking to people, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have manners. Claire- the head girl of the small posse- smiled sweetly. “Morning, Hanzo.” She smiled with an energetic spring. “Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering… Your brother mentioned that you do archery, and that you’re really good-” 

“Is that so?” Hanzo eyed the door to the classroom where he saw his green haired brother wink. He held back a grimace of distaste. _Trying to make me live uselessly like you, brother? I will not do such a thing…_ He turned back to the girls. “It is a hobby of mine.” The girls’ eyes lit up. “Oh great! There’s actually an archery club here, and we could really use a new member for the competition. I just thought I’d ask, seeing as how you don’t have anyone to really hang with…” She smiled genuinely. Hanzo thought it was sweet that he was being included, however the distant thought of the pressure that would soon come over him loomed. He shook his head and frowned. “I’m very sorry Claire, but I think your team is better off without me on it. Thank you for the offer, that is very considerate of you.” He stood and bowed.

Claire smiled and shrugged. “Okay, well if you change your mind, let me know!” She skipped off with the others back towards Genji. She turned back to Hanzo and winked, “See you later Hanzo!” He nods and sits back down, giving his attention back to his reading. 

The day passed by in a boring haze, and Hanzo dazed his attention in and out of his studies, not worrying as none of the curriculum was particularly challenging for him. Most of his thoughts went towards his brother. Like him, Genji is a bit of a genius, but lacks the care to use his mind to do something useful with it. He would rather game, and date, and do things that no Shimada should focus their time on- especially not one of the heirs to the Shimada legacy.

The bell rung out for the final class of the day at 4pm, and the class quickly packed up to leave. Hanzo left the room last, pushing in his chair and leaving his desk tidy. The rest of the day was a blur- he was out of school, and yet the tiresome work was yet to come. He completed his homework easily, and with his father, attended a meeting with “business associates” of North America. Hanzo felt that these particular associates were of less class and power than those in the homeland. Many of them were fat, and were very fond of cigars and whiskey. He thought that typical with a silent smirk across his face. He did his best to pay attention and read the body language of the assembly to see if their cards for dealing were about to fold. His father- and the elders of the shimada clan- had taught him how to read peoples body language and micro-expressions like primary school books. He still had a little to learn, he learned, as his father pressed rather hard on the obese man that represented the Heavens Gate gang based out of California. Hanzo was sure he would refuse and deal with someone else, but ended up laughing rather heartily and making the deal after remarking something about his fathers’ balls being “made of brass”.  
Hanzo got back home, exhausted, and tired. It was past his bed time, which to him sounded childish, but paradoxically was very important. For him it signified balance. For him, it was the only amount of control he had in his life.  
Maybe Genji was right. Maybe he should take some more time for himself. The thought came into his head like a raindrop, and faded like it would on the hot pavement of city sidewalks. _Foolish…_ He thought. For a fleeting, bittersweet sour moment, he wished his life could be as normal as any other young man his age.  
That night he went to bed with butterflies in his head of daft fantasies, -never to be seen through- only to become stars above, dripped dry by the racking reality that came crashing as morning broke over the horizon.

The next day was a dark in the wake of the cold morning. It was turning to Autumn now, which made its abrupt announcement through puffs of condensation, and wilted leaves falling dead to the ground. The birds hummed softly as Hanzos thoughts gathered themselves. Reality crept back to him, and he went about his daily routine.  
Get up. (Slowly- don’t hurt your ankles.)  
Dress. (Not slobby)  
Eat. (Only rice and tea)  
Leave for school (Homework, books, pencils…)  
Like clockwork, his day ticked away. Lessons taught in incoherent whispers as he dazed plainly at the half-dead trees outside. Today was not the productive type.  
At lunch he joined his brother. Both taking out neatly packed lunch boxes filled with decorative sushi and rice. The traditional Japanese lunchbox that never ceased to fascinate and amaze the Americans. The food was good, normal as it always was. Hanzos’ routine was natural, even now in a foreign country. He was adaptable. Taught to always be able to run in a moments notice- keeping the same principle routine- and to leave everything he knew behind. An _occupational hazard_ Genji would call it- to which Hanzo would begrudgingly agree. Hanzo disagreed greatly with his brothers’ view of the family business. While Hanzo saw it as a wealthy business industry that was selling arms to those who needed to be protected in this more-than-crazy era, Genji saw it for what it really was. A black market business that dealt with the highest of lowlives. Those that so badly wanted power and weapons that they had turned to something as sketchy as the black market to provide the means to carry out their sticky-business. To Genji, there was no illusion of protection with their family’ work, because those who were buying their weapons had only dilusions of violence and power. Still, as low as the business stooped, Genji openly admitted that he enjoys the riches that comes with running an international illegal arms-dealing business. While he generally disagreed, he also generally stuck to a rule of thumb; out of sight, out of mind. He wasn’t about to stand up to one of the most powerful empires in the world alone. Nor did he have the complete motivation to do so. It just so happens that Genji had a capacity for withstanding a certain amount of scum-baggery, as it was expected of him. A real denier in the church of God who didn’t mind the free wine, but also looked for no reconciliation.

Genji told his posse to catch up with him later, and as they and the other students left the room, an awkward pause took hold of the atmosphere. Genjis jaw cracked as he bit down on a particularly tough piece of bread. He cleared his throat to change the topic. “So, brother… Have you considered Claires offer?” Genji pressed, stuffing a wad of rice in his mouth like a hungry pig. Hanzo ignored his impoliteness. “I have, and I do not have time for such things.” He stated, wishing to dismiss the topic. Genji persisted, “Brother, you do not have any friends, and you don’t get to practice with Stormbow anymore- at least not nearly enough to be proficient. Why don’t you just… Try? Father would be appreciative of you having at least some contact- “Hanzo interrupted, no longer wanting to hear of it, “He would appreciate me being ready to take his place…” a silence held the room over a cliff again. Genji sighed and digressed, “I just wish some happiness on you, brother.” He huffed, packed his lunch and was turning from the distant fiery dragon before his low voice beckoned his stop, “Genji…” Genji turned and faced his brother again who had his gaze fixated on the 1000 yards of thoughts in front of him. “I appreciate your concern… I have trouble… But… Maybe I shall try.” He hesitated with every word. Insecurity swept his mind over, and he wished to isolate himself in fear of his brothers’ piercing eyes catching hold of his internal thoughts. Instead, Genji gave a candle light smile, and nodded. The smile that always made Hanzo proud to call Genji his brother. “I am glad, brother.” He left the room, and Hanzo was left again to the bleak class, with walls that mocked his introverted dissidence.

That day after school, once the sun started to say goodbye to the land, and scraped its tendrils across the clouded sky in lightly hued beams, Hanzo wandered for a while, still arguing his senses into convincing him that this was good for him. He wandered mindlessly, trying to avoid that elephant that seemed to be chasing him through the hallways when he found himself in front of the Archery Clubs room. Hanzo shrugged all his anxiety off with one final shake of the head. His worries were distasteful of him. Genji had a point; father would want him to live a balanced and well-rounded life in order to take over the Shimada legacy. Without further hesitation, he opened the door, and with a nervous introduction seemingly shouted into the room that he wished to join. He was met with four sets of rather surprised eyes.  
“Hanzo!” the brunette elated, pushing her hands together and to her chin. “I’m happy to see you here! I thought you weren’t going to attend?” She smiled sweetly. Hanzo gathered himself, pardoning his abruptness, and rather unruly entrance. “I- I changed my mind.” He stuttered, clearing his throat, “I thought it might be good to practice…” He decided.  
“Well I’m glad you showed, our last member just dropped out.” She giggled. “Oh! Where are my manners? Hanzo, these are the other team members,” She pointed each one out as they were introduced, “Devon,” A rather tall ginger man, he nodded coolly. “Grace,” A rather thin blond girl, no muscle who did not wish to make eye contact, but waved shyly. “And Erin.” An androgynous black with freckles that spotted their face, they threw up a peace sign. Hanzo bowed graciously, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Once introductions were done with, Claire decided it would be best to see Hanzo in action, and they headed to the shed, setting up the targets and handing him a rather stiff looking recurve bow. Hanzo examined it first, making sure it was in good enough shape to be used safely.  
“The bow string is not tight enough, the aim is slightly off as well. Otherwise it will do fine.” He decided. He pushed the bow, bending it on his leg and restrung it with force, but no struggle. He tested an arrow, knocking it and feeling the weight on the boy. He predicted where it would lead based on the aim sight being off. The he shot.  
The arrow flew with perfect precision, only a millimeter from the bullseye. Hanzo scoffed. “Damn…” He muttered.  
The other four were completely dumbfounded by this. They showered him with many compliments of amazement and awe. He did not feel for this type of affection from people he barely knew.

The day was drawing long, and it was too dark to practice anymore. The streetlights had been light, pushing back against the last rays of orange fire that was being overtaken by the foggy blue night sky moving in. Hanzo had practiced with them, and even taught them how to better correct their form. He felt like a child, but insisted that it was still good practice. The street outside the school grounds was bustling with sounds of busy evening shoppers. The streets were rather small, with back-alley after back-alley. He was still caught in his own mind, so much so that he didn’t notice the tall woman in white who walked passed him until she bumped him. He was snapped back to reality to immediately turn and apologize. She nodded her head, and walked on with a quick “No problem,” and a smile. He was turning to walk back when a flash of a human rushed in front of him, and pushed him back a half-step. He had a rather wide-rimmed hat on that drooped over his face, casting a shadow.

Hanzo stopped in his tracks, getting the sense that something else was going on. He waited, observing the man stand about 5 feet behind the lady in white, who had stopped at a side shop to browse. Hanzo made an observation; The man that had shoved him was some sort of Cowboy.


	2. Chapter 2

The cowboy stepped forward, beginning to browse the goods next to the woman in white. He had a rather snide look plastered on his face. He kept looking over his shoulder. Hanzo hugged the corner of a shop opposing the man, and silently observed him. The woman in white put down whatever she had in her hands, and walked away casually. Only a couple seconds later, the cowboy smirked and followed. 

Hanzo’s mind clicked, and he realized what was about to happen. The man tripped behind her, skimming her knee. She was surprised, and turned to help lift him in a rush. She mouthed, _‘are you okay?’_ , to which he smiled and laughed, and patted her on the shoulder. He was turned away from Hanzo’s view. The woman turned and went about her business, just as she had before, and the man continued walking. Hanzo followed suit, keeping a fair distance between him and the man. 

The bandana around the mans neck made a sudden jolt as his hat whipped up with the air of rushing down a side street. Hanzo turned the side street to see him stopped and crouched. He heard what sounded like soft chuckles. Hanzo cleared his throat, the man stood up and turned to face him, startled.

“Pardon my intrusion, but…” Hanzo started, a clever flicker in his eyes as he approached the man. “I’m a little lost…” He trailed off. The man had hidden one hand behind his back and tried to look as if he wasn’t hiding something. He readied his hands on his belt line, and his thumb lay on a ready bolt handle.

“Whoa there pardner, ya’ll need to leave. Now.” He spoke with a waspy rasp and a deep southern accent that was like a good whisky. Hanzo was not at all surprised by this, given his choice in fashion.

“I do not me to intrude, it is just that I was here shopping for some jewelry after my classes- it is my mothers birthday and she has always like American styled jewelry you see…” Hanzo sweetened the pot, enticing the greedy desires of the man. The cowboy gave a slight smirk. “I was hoping perhaps you could point me in the right direction…?” Hanzo asked with fake fragility trembling in his voice.

Instantly the mans body language changed from defensive to inviting. He splayed his hands out playfully, and towed Hanzo with an arm cuffed around his shoulders. “Ah! I see! Ya’ll new around these parts?” He charmed. Hanzo nodded.

The man chuckled, “No problem at all pardner. Just let me know where you’re headed, and I’ll get’cha there before the bell rings for supper.”

Hanzo didn’t understand the language, but obliged nonetheless. The man released him, and they strode into the middle of the next street over. Hanzo played coy, pretending he hadn’t the slightest where he was. He pointed to a street, “I live on Rosen Avenue, which I think is this way…” He asked in a half question. “I know I must turn left on Fifth Street, but… Is that it?” He winced at a distant street sign. The man came next to him and did the same, he looked for a moment and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s it alright. Now, ya’ want me to walk you to Rosen Ave?” He offered in a gracious manner. Hanzo smiled and nodded, “That is very kind of you.”

They made off. At first, headed the correct way, but they turned down a road that Hanzo was sure was not going the correct way to Rosen Avenue. The man had been strolling with his hands in his front pockets, whistling, and hadn’t noticed the trick Hanzo had played on him until he reached into his back pockets to find that the wallet he had stolen was no longer there.

The man whipped around to stare at Hanzo. “Uhm… Ya didn’t happen to see me drop my wallet earlier did’ya?” He asked in a slight panic. Hanzo played dumb and shook his head. “No, I did not… I’m sorry, have you lost it?” the man nodded slowly, and Hanzo smiled- he couldn’t help his own humor from escaping through his gaze. Hanzo hoped the man wouldn’t notice. The man turned back around to leading, but grew suspicious. Before he could reach for his gun, the man was down an alley and against the cold stone wall with a snide, smiling face in front of him, with a wallet in hand, held just before his face.

“Perhaps next time you steal someone’s wallet, you will make sure not to bump into bystanders along the way.” Hanzo remarked with pride. The man growled, “I ain’t steal nothin’!” He barked. Hanzo shook his head, cocking his finger back and forth like a pendulum in the air before him. “Ah ah, do not lie to me, thief. You are perhaps not as clever as you thought.” He laughed. The man struggled with his grip and pushed on Hanzo’s weight. When he thought he had broken free, he found himself stabbed in the solar plexus with two stern fingers. The air ceased in his lungs, and a hollow feeling took his stomach and chest. He fell to his knees in a huff, holding his hurting abdomen.

“Stay down, thief. I am no authority. I would just rather petty criminals find a more permanent solution to their thieving tendencies.” Hanzo knelt down to the man and held the wallet out. “Now then, what is your reason for stealing this woman’s wallet?” He stared the man down.

The man looked up at Hanzo with a sorry face, “Look man, that’s my food money. I ain’t got nothin’ else. These side shop pricks have enough money to go around for lil’ ole’ me. Now just gimme the wallet and you can walk away without holes in your abdomen.” The man threatened, still catching his breath.

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Well then, I suppose I’ll be returning this wallet now. What a wasted evening.” He shrugged. “Well, good night I suppose.” He turned to walk away, and heard the gravel behind him shuffle. Hanzo ducked as the barrel of a gun came hurdling over his shoulder. He shifted his weight and carried the man over his shoulder, grabbing the gun, and flipping the man completely on his back on the cold, hard pavement in front of him. He let out a little groan.

Hanzo laughed. “You’d have to do better than that, thief.”

The man slowly made his way back to his feet. He nervously locked eyes on the gun that was taken, and put his hands up defensively. “Look… You can have the wallet… But please, at least let me have my gun back… It’s all I’ve got.”

Hanzo considered this a moment. He held the gun out in front of him, and as the man reached for it, rolled it back to his side and into his pocket. The man sighed. “Do I really have to say _please_?” 

“If I give you this gun, what is to stop you from stealing again, or pulling it on someone who tries to stop you?” Hanzo shook his head. “No, you are coming with me if you want this gun back.” the man sighed and made a rude gesture as he begrudgingly followed suit.

A while later, Hanzo had found the woman and given her wallet back, telling her she had dropped it. The woman thanked him graciously, as the thief stood behind and resented his decision.

After the wallet was returned Hanzo continued down the busy streets as the sun strafed orange through the sky. The thief followed behind him like a shy dog. Hands in his pockets, slumped so his hat and messy brown hair covered his face with a shadow. The thief knew he couldn’t ask for the gun back again. This wannabe hero seemed to be taunting him, he thought. He had run through scenario after scenario in his mind- nabbing the gun and booking it- but he always ended on the same conclusion; the dude was a fucking badass, and the thief knew if wouldn’t be that simple.

Suddenly, Hanzo stopped and turned to the man. The thief’s hopes piqued as Hanzo handled the gun in front of him. “I’m assuming you want this back now?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, looking the man up and down. He was untidy at best. He looked as if he hadn’t bathed in a week and waded in garbage for his meals. Hanzo nearly pitied him, but he knew that pity was of no help to the man.

He nodded, “Yeah… It’s all I got.” He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Hanzo sighed.

“Come with me then.” Hanzo pointed to the double doors to his right. The man looked at the doors, and looked up at the sign that hung in a glowing blue above them that read _The Cloud Diner_.

The man looked back at Hanzo, confused. “Huh? What’s this? I don’t have any money.” He sighed.  
“Allow me to treat you to some food then.” Hanzo smiled. “I come here most afternoons to finish my work. A nice restaurant, a good break from the junk fast-food you Westerners pass off as food.” He smirked.

The man threw up his hands, “What is this?” He sighed. “A second ago you punched me in the chest, and now you’re taking me to dinner?”  
Hanzo shook his head, “Actually, I jabbed you in the solar plexus.” He rolled his eyes, “And I want to treat you to a meal because you need to eat.”  
Jesse took a second to consider the offer, his stomach twisting on itself while his distrust worked against him. After a moment, he shook his head and backed away. “Forget it… Just keep the gun, I don’t want this… I don’t like bein’ in debt to folks.” He grumbled, backing away slowly.

Hanzo held out the gun to the thief. He waved it in a gesture that said take it. “It was not a question of debt. It was a friendly gesture. I have enough money to feed plenty of homeless, but I chose to help you because you need to be taught that thievery is not a way to sustain yourself.” Hanzo explained. “I can help you.”  
The man looked at his gun, held by a pale, fragile looking hand, and looked to the strangers face. He was pale, clean and had sharp, defined features. He couldn’t detect any sense of deception from the stranger. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and took the gun, holstering calmly.

“Y-…” He struggled to find words, “Ya sure? I mean… I’m a street rat… I just tried to _shoot_ you.” He had never felt so confused before.  
“Yes, I am sure. Now please, make your decision, I have work to do.” Hanzo turned and entered the white doors. The smell of fresh coffee and food wafted from the open doors, and caressed the mans nose. His stomach grumbled loudly.

He folded into his hunger, keeping his doubt at bay and quickly skittering behind Hanzo.

He entered the place. It looked fancy, though to a street rat like him, fancy was very subjective. He observed his stranger friend approach the hostess, nod and set off to seat himself. The thief followed quickly. He was underdressed for such a place, which granted him some sideways glances. Hanzo seated himself, sat down on a cushy mat, crisscrossing his legs in front of a Chabudai, decorated with scattered floral patterns.

The thief awkwardly crisscrossed and sat, removing his boots and parking them just next to the table as Hanzo had. Hanzo had immediately started to organize himself; pulling out papers and pencils and a study book. He dove into his studies as a waitress brought a tea set.

“Here you are Shimada-san. The normal order for you.” She eyed the man sitting adjacent to Hanzo, “Oh… Is this man bothering you? I can call security…” Hanzo interrupted. “No Ayanami, that won’t be necessary.” He said without even looking up from writing, “He is with me.”

The waitress straightened up. “Oh!” she gasped, “My sincerest apologies Shimada-san.” She bowed to the both of them in respect. “What can I get your then, sir?” She asked with a professional smile across her pail, Asian face.

“Uhm…” He was confused, and taken a little by surprise by the formality. “Uh… Y’all got any food?” His thick accent stung the atmosphere like a dart into a balloon. It almost looked as if the waitress was desperately holding back from laughing.

“Just bring him the Matsuri platter. It is a special treat.” Hanzo chimed. The waitress smiled and bowed, “Of course Shimada-san.” She disappeared into the curtains down the hall as her Kimono’s tail trailed after. The man was still sufficiently confused. He sat for a couple of minutes, looking around and twiddling his thumbs and starting out the window. Finally, he had had enough of the awkward silence that had taken hold.

“Okay… Listen, I know y’ain’t from around here, but, I don’t even think East Asia is this accommodatin’. Why’re y’all doing this for me?” He queried.   
Finally, Hanzo looked up from his papers and smiled. “What is your name, thief?” He closed his books and folded his hands over his mouth. “Or shall I continue to refer to you as thief?”

The man was confused, he shook his head, giving up his name as “Jesse… Jesse McCree…” as he itched the back of his head.

Hanzo took the clay teapot in his hand, and poured into a small clay teacup. He sniffed the steam that drifted up to his nose. “Well, Jesse McCree…” He took a sip. “I am helping you because I see the need to.” He smiled.

“Ookay…” Jesse stumbled over his words, “That don’t particularly answer my question there…” The waitress came back and cut into their train of thought. She set a platter down in front of Jesse filled with different colorful foods. Sushi, and an array of other small portions that to Jesse, looked like the fanciest food he’d ever eaten.

The thoughts that had been discussed before suddenly didn’t matter, and the hunger twisting in his stomach took over his mind for a moment as he indulged himself.

Hanzo continued to sip his tea, watching Jesse as he ate. “The reason I decided to help you,” He conceded, “Is because you needed it.” Jesse looked up from stuffing his mouth.

“The truth of the matter is you’re involved with crime. Scrounging for scraps, stealing from people to acquire each meal, and yet you are but a child.” He sipped again, the steam rolled up his face in a mist. He was calm, his expression unchanging.

“I ain’t a child.” Jesse grunted through a full mouth. Hanzo raised an eyebrow, “Oh? What are you then? How old are you exactly, Jesse McCree?”  
Jesse hesitated. “I’m uh… seventeen… But I ain’t a child neither!” He huffed.

“You are still in need of stability, nonetheless.” Hanzo clarified, putting his cup down on the table. “You need a job and a place to sleep besides a dumpster.” He taunted.

This hit Jesse harder than even he expected. He normally wouldn’t think twice about his situation- this is what it’s always been like. But for some reason, he felt a genuine insecurity. He _is_ poor and in need. A classic charity case, He thought. His interest in his strange company’s offer was piqued.  
Hanzo packed his things, and stood. Jesse looked, mouth full and surprised. “Where ya’ll going?” He asked.

Hanzo was writing something on a small strip of paper. After a moment he handed the strip to Jesse. “Take this. There is a room in one of my father’s business associate’s hotel that you can use. You are to get a job and buy an apartment. I will be checking in on your progress every now and then.”

Jesse took the strip. It had an address on one side, and on the other, writings in what Jesse assumed was Japanese. He looked back at Hanzo. “What? But… I can’t possibly accept…” Jesse was dazed by the generous offer, and confused. He couldn’t figure out why suddenly, this man wanted to help him. 

“Tell the hotel staff that paper is from Hanzo Shimada.” Hanzo smiled at Jesse and bowed. He picked his bag from the ground, slipped his shoes on and said his goodbye.

Hanzo left and Jesse sat, staring at the paper, his hunger now satisfied. “What in the Sam Hell just happened?” He whispered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh another chapter done. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I'm really just writing this in my spare time and my school has been keeping me really busy. I'll definitely be updating this a lot more now that I've got my flow back- and expect me to write much more in the summer. Hope you enjoy! I'm glad this is picking up some speed again!


	3. Chapter 3

Hanzo returned home that night in a lighter mood than usual. Such an unusual day it had been, indeed. He unlocked the door to their small, but luxurious, dwelling. They lived on a rather rich street, but in this day and age, almost no one had big mansions. It was to spacious, and interior designers could make more out of less. Certainly the Shimada’s could afford a larger dwelling, but to them, it was unnecessary- and too conspicuous. For all he was involved in the day-to-day of the Shimada empire’s politics, he still hadn’t been revealed to the entirety of their inner workings. He _did_ know, however, that some of the people his father and the elders of the clan had worked with were less than reputable individuals. He knew that they were making deals with a local _militia_ as the representative so delicately worded, for the hiring of some of the Shimada’s finest.

Hanzo was given a strict rule not to look into it, as this was something far too important for a young master to deal with- or so his father told him. He was allowed to attend business meetings, learn the ways of how to make a deal and how to bargain and blackmail, but he was not allowed to make any sort of opinion known unless his father had specifically told him such.

He stepped into the small, Birchwood foyer, slipping off his outside shoes and hanging his school coat. Loosening his tie, he set his bag on the stairs to go up later, and looked around. There were no clothes splayed on the ground like normal, nor any giggling or any presence of another life form ever living here at all. _Strange…_ Hanzo thought; Genji would normally be here by now. He shrugged it off and made his way into the kitchen. He took out the water filter, poured himself a glass and leaned against a spotless, white counter to check his Holocell. No messages from anyone- not even from any of his friends who said they’d keep in touch while he was away. Typical. Part of him was thankful- he wasn’t particularly fond of holding conversation over message or video.

He scrolled to his contacts, and selected one under the name of _宗次郎島田_. Changing his keyboard settings to Japanese, he wrote out to his father, ‘ _Will you be home tonight? I need to make dinner soon. Please let me know._ ’.

His father was rarely home for dinner, or rarely home to sleep at all. He dreaded the thought of staying overnight at an office, or in some other work environment. Hanzo knew that if it wasn’t for school, he would probably be stuck in the office with his father- That was, assuming that there was someone there to take care of Genji. After a moment of consideration, Hanzo pulled up a second contact window and selected his brother. ‘ _where r u?_ ’, his grammar was nonexistent. Genji never cared. He dismissed his Holocell screen and planted the small piece back into his pocket. He stretched his back, his arm sore from shooting a bow after so long. His mind drifted to the thoughts of Genji’s friend’s. He never felt connected to anyone. All of his friends, he thought, had stayed around because they were associate’s children, or because they liked the money and elaborate events that came with being the friends of the Shimada’s. Then his mind skipped- he knew why the house was so quiet. Putting his glass down, he kicked himself mentally for forgetting. How could he have been so careless?

A small black tile stuck out just next to the front door. Hanzo placed his hand over it, and a moment later it lit up in the logo of a golden dragon. A faint whirring sound echoed through the house, and briefly after, a soft female voice spoke out.

“Konbanwa, Hanzo-sama!” An electronic voice greeted. The small sprite of a woman appeared on the screen and bowed. Hanzo rolled his eyes and smiled, “What have we agreed on, Masa-chan? We will speak English together while we are here. I must continue to practice.” He undid his tie and made his way to the stairs.

“Of course, young master.” The voice buzzed calmly, “My apologies. Would you like me to search your cookbook for tonight’s recipe? You have been planning to make this dish for a while. I can order all of the necessary ingredients.” Hanzo lifted his bag, “No, thank you Masa-chan.”

“Very well.” The voice acknowledged. Masa-chan’s voice followed Hanzo as he made for the bathroom. “Your schedule- do you need an update Hanzo-sama? There a quiet a few tests coming up very soon.” She alerted, a small screen popping up in yellow on the lower right side of the mirror. Hanzo shook his head, “No, thank you.” He started to undo and brush his long, silky hair.

“Of course, sir. You never do need an update- a very capable young master you are!” She cheered. After a while of brushing, Masa spoke again. “Hanzo-sama, will Sojiro-sama be joining for dinner tonight?” She inquired. 

Just then, his Holocell buzzed, and he looked at the screen that popped up accordingly on the mirror in front of him. “No.” He huffed. The voice paused, “And Genji-sama?” She asked in a somewhat concerned voice- as concerned as an AI could be.

Hanzo shrugged, “That, I do not know. I have asked him but at the moment-” he checked his Holocell again, to which his message had not even been seen yet. “I am unsure.” He concluded.

He was done brushing his hair, Masa had left him alone. She was somewhat concerned with his loneliness- it was like this most days. His father working and his brother out to god-knows-where. Hanzo sighed again, walking into his room. The place was mostly white, a calming aura held the room- especially for it’s lone occupant. There were Japanese characters hung on weathered looking parchment that decorated the walls. A comfy desk was adjacent to the door, and a window stood over it, shining the last remaining streaks of light, lowly against the bonsai on the windowsill. There was a stand for incense, and a very neatly packed shelf that had few, but essential things for Hanzo’s sanity. His floor was carpeted, something he was not used to in the slightest. He owned a blow-up cot, to which he once tried to sleep on and found no comfort in, along with his much preferred futon. He also owned a small couch and Holoscreen, which he only really used for reading and keeping up with the news.

He walked over to his desk and settled in, eyeing the overgrowing Bonsai. He tried to ignore it, filling out the last couple of calculus questions before his better self folded, and he retrieved his clippers. He happily hummed away as he trimmed at the Bonsai, shaping it to a round and flowing shape. The last wave of light washed over the carpet in a pumpkin-orange, and he saw the dark dusk-blue setting in from above. The clouds were silhouetted against the stars that had just begun to peek out of their hiding. He slid the window open, taking in a breath of fresh, evening air. It was silent, and only the occasional Hovercar could be heard zooming past in a cascade of white noise.

The lights lining the upper edges of his room gently glowed, filling his room with a dim and calm light of gold. A quiet _beep_ announced the presence of Masa, as a small spot on the window popped up with the dragon insignia.

“Hanzo-sama, I do not know if I should remind you, but it is getting late… You should eat.” She cautioned. Hanzo nodded, “You are right.” He sighed in another breath of evening essence. “I have work to continue.” He stated, sitting back in his chair. A small light accentuated the outline of the desk against the dim room. “Shall I order the normal, then?” Masa inquired. Hanzo was back to work, “Please.” He replied calmly.

Food was always readily available, especially when you almost never had to go shopping. If you had a household AI like many middle to upper class, you could always have fresh ingredients whenever. She was responsible for assisting the Shimada’s in whatever they need, as well as keeping schedule and taking the place of a Secretary. Masa, who was an invention and gift of their father’s, was always respectful of her creators. Sojiro was always one to respect Masa as an equal, despite it not being even remotely true. She was a learning robot made for the purpose of assisting the Shimada clan. She knew it too. Nonetheless, Hanzo had always taken a strange kind of solace in her omnipresence- it kept him small and unconditional company. The only thing that bothered Hanzo about her persistant assistance was the insistence on monitoring his vitals. She would make seemingly unnecessary remarks on Hanzo’s stress levels, or sugar intake in a day- he understood the sentiment of being perfect, but it seemed as though Masa had forgotten a key element; they were human. AI, while very helpful sometimes did not quiet understand that the human condition involved the lack of taking advice and imperfection.

Hanzo continued with his studies, he was nearly finished when his mind had suddenly derailed, and without noticing, his thoughts drifted back to the thief from that evening. His country accent rang out in Hanzo’s mind like cigar smoke in an enclosed area- thick, and exotic to him. A bit of a shock at first, but only interesting later on. He wished the thief- McCree, Jesse McCree- had talked more so he could analyze the nuances of the voice. What every word of English sounded like in such a tone. It was intriguing, but then his thoughts drifted to the rest of McCree. A man of larger stature, he seemed as if the only activity that was ever fitting to him was some type of exercise. He was so young for someone like that to be on the streets. Hanzo took a moment to remember that he himself was only a year older, and was the heir to a multi-billion-dollar name. He shrugged it off as everyone having their own path to the present- but it still ticked in the back of his mind like a bomb.

In the middle of his reminiscing of past events, the familiar click announced itself, and an electronic voice woke Hanzo from his daydreaming. “Hanzo-sama, your food has arrived.” She chirped.

Hanzo stood and shook the last remaining whispers of Jesse off his mind, and thought only about the food he was about to eat. He grabbed his Holocell and made his way to the front door. He opened it, took the tray of stacked food boxes, paid and went back inside. He set the boxes down on the table, checking his Holocell again. It had buzzed, and Genji had answered.

‘ _Sorry bro, but i’m not coming home. w/ friends_ ’ it read across a translucent screen. Hanzo sighed. _alone again_ he thought to himself.

He prepared an assortment of sushi, rice and octopus puffs. He sat down at the table and ate in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a little bit of a dull chapter, but I'm just biding some setup. I took the time to actually outline until the 9th chapter, so I've got a really good idea of where I want this thing to go. This is the last chapter that wasn't specifically planned at first, so it's a bit dull. I promise next chapter will offer some interesting conflict. <33


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the week passed in a grinding blur. Hanzo had fallen into a lull, one that sucked all the color from life. He was bored, and everything felt so second nature that nothing excited him, other than being able to have lunch with a certain criminally inspired cowboy. It was the only thing that was unusual and interesting to him. He felt like he was doing something worth while by helping Jesse.

Hanzo had made his way to the diner, just as he did nearly every day. As he approached, however, a familiar face greeted him with a smile and a puff of smoke.

“Smoking…” Hanzo remarked, waving the cloud away from his face. Jesse gave him a two fingered greeting, “Well howdy to you too, pardner.” He laughed.

“You seem rather cheery, McCree.” Hanzo gave him a once over, and entered the diner, Jesse quickly in tail.

“What ain’t there to be cheery about? I got a job, a temporary luxury apartment, a carin’ friend. My life seems on the up’n’up.” He smiled wide, his smoky stubble spanning the width of his chin. Hanzo gave a slight smile, “I am glad to help.”

The two made their way to what would eventually come to be their _normal_ spot in their favorite diner. Over the week, McCree grew into fond company with the young master, talking about nonsense that grew into background noise for Hanzo as he worked. It was almost soothing- if it wasn’t annoying at first. But this time, it was different. Hanzo had no work to attend to. He was free to do as he pleased, which meant small talk; no good.

McCree sat with a leg still bent up, leaning his forearm across it and staring out the window. He seemed much less stressed than he had in the past week. Hanzo couldn’t help but glance at the cowboy every now and then in curiosity. Several questions boiled over in his mind, and he flipped through each one deciding which would be appropriate to answer, easiest to answer, and not too invasive. He decided that he would check on his acquaintance’s progress, and silenced all other questions that stirred in his mind.

“Well then, Jesse McCree,” Jesse turned to him with a smile and a, _hmm?_. “How is your progress so far? Have you found an apartment?” Hanzo’s tone was genuine in interest, his voice much more friendly and casual than before.

Jesse smiled wide, “Yeah, I’m looking at a few places a couple blocks from where I work. Washin’ dishes at a diner ain’t the best payin’, but it _is_ enough to live off of thankfully.” He cheered, “I’ve gotta talk to a landlord at this lower-class apartment complex Monday. Hopefully I can have a place by then.” He grinned toothily, his freckles flexed against his plump cheeks and followed along the loose curvature of his face. The light had been hitting the side of his face, giving him a glow in the light. Hanzo realized he had been caught too long in thought and quickly turned from Jesse, looking away.

“That is good.” He smiled, taking a bite of a wonton that had arrived earlier. There was a silence as the both of them munched on their food. After Jesse had woofed down the rest of his rice and filled himself to the brim, he wiped his face from any remaining residue that might have taken refuge on his stubble.

Jesse glanced at hanzo from his peripherals as he turned back to the window. He too, was curious about his new friend. He yanked the courage to try and talk to him- always so stoic, it was almost frightening to Jesse.

“So…” He began slowly, grabbing the attention of Hanzo who looked up, slurping noodles. “I was wonderin’, Where are ya from?”

Hanzo swallowed before allowing himself to answer, “I am from a place called Hanamura, it is a city in Japan. Beautiful, near Mount Fuji and up on a hill far from any other town.” His face lit up, it looked like he was able to visualize the entire village right in front of him. To Hanzo, he could feel the breeze of the Japanese air against him, and the smell of Sakura blossoms in his nose. He desperately missed his home.  
“So then what’re ya doin’ here then?” Jesse asked, sipping a coffee.

“My father is a… _businessman_. He had to come for a business trip of great importance and longevity. He decided to bring my brother and me in order to learn more about the structure of business- how to close a deal, play the game and such.” His face dulled at this thought, he wasn’t very excited about these details and he showed it.

“Ah… But, wait… You were in a uniform the other day?” Jesse inquired again.

“Yes. My father put us in a private school nearby. He wanted to make sure our education was continued to the best quality this place could offer.”

“So then… Y’all really are wealthy, huh?” Jesse stared in wonderment, thinking about what it would be like to travel across the world and study somewhere abroad. Jesse had never been outside of the West of the States before, let alone in a different country. He reminisced about the hotel, the fancy diner and all the treats Hanzo had given him. _Really wealthy_ , he concluded.

“Extremely.” Hanzo said plainly. He wasn’t embarrassed about the amount of money his family had- they were massive and held several dozen ties oversees. Discussing money was not awkward for him as it was for others. He had plenty of it to spare.

“Holy Hell, Shimada. What does your family even do? I mean I know y’all are business people and stuff, but like… In _what_? Specifically, what’re y’all doing here?” Jesse was dumbfounded. He didn’t know any company too wealthy around here that would ever be able to bargain with such a large business, whatever it was.

At this Hanzo winced. He didn’t really know all the details about the family empire, nor did he wish to yet. Even so, his father had told him strictly not to give too much information to others about their family; it was a security risk, or so his father had said.

“Well…” He hesitated, “We manufacture gadgets. We also assist with training and selling specialized individuals to those that need them. It has been passed down through generations…” He wasn’t convinced himself. A lie made up on the spot to satiate a question that simply could not be answered. Hanzo knew it was a flimsy excuse, and prayed internally that the man would not pry on the subject further.

To Hanzo’s surprise, Jesse accepted the explanation with a smile and a “Huh. Interesting.” Hanzo was relieved. He wasn’t the best liar in the world.

The day drew a little longer and Jesse and Hanzo parted ways. Jesse seemed delighted to spend time with his _supervisor_ , to which he mistook for a friend, as Hanzo had put it. But Jesse had started to grow on Hanzo too. Hanzo was fond of the man, for a reason that he himself could not explain at all. He didn’t understand why he was so comfortable and drawn to the cowboy thug, but he was. Now Hanzo just needed to know how to deal with such a feeling. His first true friend, and of course they both lived in a foreign country. Hanzo was miffed, thinking that he would have to leave his attachments behind, both because of distance and because of responsibilities. He was reluctant in the beginning of their stay to do exactly what he has done. He has made attachments that he would eventually leave. He brushed the thoughts away as he walked down the sunset streets of the urban city. He would have to contemplate this later.

Hanzo returned around sundown, Masa-chan greeted him as he stepped into the abode. “Greetings Hanzo-sama!” Her electronic voice buzzed in a light and lovely tone. Hanzo greeted back and walked up to his room. As he approached his door however, he noticed his brother’s door was closed and heard the beating of a tempo pumping from within. Hanzo knocked. No response. Hanzo shrugged and opened the door slowly.

Genji was alone, bopping to the music and sitting in front of his bed playing on a game console. The music was a progressive J-pop with a dubstep undertone mixed in- Hanzo found the music abhorrent. He covered his ears and shouted for his brother to turn the music off. Genji took notice of his brother’s presence and did so.

“Greetings, brother!” he cheered. Hanzo waved half-heartedly at his energetic sibling.

“Ugh, hello.” His ears were still ringing. “I wanted to ask what you wanted to eat for tonight? I assume you are not going out again?” Hanzo asked.

“Nah.” His brother shrugged, “My friends are going to a big fest a little way outside the city. Didn’t sound like my kind of party. Besides, it’s nice to hang around with my brother every now and then.” He teased.

Hanzo rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Only sometimes?” He joked back. They both giggled.

“Anyways, Onii-chan, you can make that good Yakisoba that you always used to make.” He smiled wide.

“Oh, and you would not help me, brother?” Hanzo remarked sarcastically.

Genji shrugged with an overplayed smile on his face. Hanzo rolled his eyes and nodded, giggling.

About an hour later, the dish was made, and both Hanzo and Genji were sat at the table. They both seasoned their noodles and clapped their hands together, nearly shouting “Thank you for the food!” and dug in very soon afterwards.

The dinner lasted for a while, and once the two could no longer eat anything else, Hanzo made tea and they sat and drank for a while.

“So then Onii-chan, what did you do today? You were gone for some time.” Genji smiled. “Were you meeting with a special someone?” He asked in a very satirical tone. Hanzo almost spit his tea out.

“No, In fact not! I do not have such a person!” Hanzo coughed.

Genji laughed heartily, “Are you sure brother? What about Claire?” He teased.

Hanzo’s face reddened, _me and Claire? What a ridiculous sentiment!_ he thought to himself, “Absolutely not!” He insisted.

Genji snickered, “You know she likes you?” He pushed, “She isn’t half bad either!” He roared. “Why don’t you try, brother? You know father would be extatic!” Genji sipped on his tea again.

Hanzo had settled back into his place. Genji had a point. His father did expect him to have a social life, and that including having a relationship. His father pushed him to be the most balanced individual, and one thing he lacked very much was a relationship. Never feeling connected enough to anyone, he had never had the thought of starting a relationship before. His father _would_ expect him to have a relationship, and _would_ be very happy to see he had one. Even if he didn’t care for Claire in such a way, he thought trhough all of the options. _Another task to complete that I will not have to later._ He walked himself through the thought process, and came up with the conclusion that it was indeed desirable for the heir of the Shimada Empire to have experience with such things.

After a minute of thought, he folded. “Well… Perhaps it could work…” He said slowly. Genji looked up from his tea at Hanzo, bewildered.

“Really Hanzo?” He inquired, amazed at his brother’s response.

Hanzo nodded, still thinking it over. “Perhaps it is something that I need to push myself into…” He looked up at Genji, who was still dumbfounded. “But… I’m not experienced. Such things seem to come naturally to you… I have no idea where to start…” He grumbled.

Genji shot up from his place, “That’s okay brother! I can help you with the details!”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, _My little brother… Helping_ me _with such a task…_ He thought, _How pathetic of me…_ He knew it was necessary though and elected to ignore that detail. They both finished dinner and headed upstairs to sleep. Hanzo rested to the sound of falling rain, dripping softly against his window. His mind wandered to thoughts of home, and the smell of Cherry Blossoms guided him into a restful sleep.

The next day, Hanzo woke up to the sound of birds chirping, streams of light lined the inside of his alabaster walls, making them glow in low intensity. A mechanical chime alerted Hanzo to his AI friend’s presence.

“Good morning, Hanzo-sama.” She hummed.

Hanzo sat up on his bed, his feet against the carpeted floor and rubbed his eyes. He yawned away his doziness and stood, greeting Masa back. 

“Good morning, Masa-chan.” His voice cracked away the sleep from the rest of his system as his body became attuned to consciousness once again. He had started to contemplate what he would fill the day with when he remembered what him and Genji had talked about the night before. He supposed- since he was to practice archery anyways- that he would ask Claire out while he was there. 

A certain ping of annoyance caught Hanzo. He had wondered why he felt nothing for her, and why such a task seemed so difficult when for his little brother it seemed so natural. He concluded quickly that everyone had a different perspective of life, and chose to ignore the thought altogether. Brushing it away, he poured boiled water in a clay tea cup with matcha mix. He took a piece of toast, slathered a strawberry jelly on it and sipped away on his tea as he ate.

When he finally arrived to the archery range, it was all but empty. The only ones that had made it there on time was Claire and the androgynous Erin. The shed’s heating system hadn’t quite kicked in long enough to overbear the cold that had seeped through the cinderblock walls of the place. If it were any colder, there would be icecicles hanginging from the ceiling and frost hanging tight on the small windows. This fall had been especially cold, and it seemed that as the winter torrents moved in as echos of a future to come, the winter would be just as unforgiving.

The practice was slow, Devon never showed and only texted Claire after half hour that he had come down with the flu. Eventually, the practice was over after Claire had challenged Hanzo to a one-on-one as to who could hit as many bullseyes in a row. Hanzo of course won. Clair was amazed. As the rest of the club made their exit, Hanzo and Claire found themselves in the shed together. Claire was humming away, packing her things. Hanzo listened, hearing her steady and sweet voice. He liked Claire as a person- _Maybe it could work_ \- he tried to convince himself.

After Stormbow was cleaned and carefully stowed, Hanzo turned to meet Claire’s hazelnut eyes and her soft peach smile. She was a particularly attractive woman by social standards, however Hanzo only regarded these features in a third-person context. He felt nothing for her romatically. A void grew between them, Hanzo felt. A disconnection that only lasted on his part. He felt that this was somehow normal- surely others had felt the same as he. He persisted with his venture anyhow, thinking that there must be some magical trick in order to feel for her.

“Claire,” He asked softly, she looked up at him, “I was wondering… My brother told me that you liked me. Would you like to go on a date then?”

Claire’s heart dropped and her face grew beet-red. “W-what?” She nearly shrieked- Hanzo winced. “ _That_ casually?” She gasped. She put a hand to her chest and turned away, trying to catch her breath. To her, he had just thrown a fastball at her when she wasn’t even on the playingfeild; utterly unexpected.

She turned back to Hanzo, “Uhm, _yes_!” She emphasized in an almost aggressive obviousness to her. Hanzo gave a smile.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to do next, but perhaps an actual time for the date would be helpful. “Shall I find you tonight? At around 7? We can go for dinner if you would like…” He suggested. Claire squealed and nearly jumped in a glowing excitement.

“That sounds perfect!” She gushed. “I need to get home and get ready!” She sped off out the door before Hanzo could say anything.

Hanzo sat for a while, contemplating what had happened, and what could happen in the future. He still felt off about this.

The time flew past and Hanzo was off to find Claire. He approached a large mansion and reread the address before ringing the bell. The mansion was decked in sprouting nature of all sorts, and contrasted masonry white against the violet sky. The porch light flicked on, and the oaken heavy door opened, revealing Claire in a flowy, silk dress. She had put on makeup and was wearing stilettos that propped her up another generous inch or so. She was slightly shorter than Hanzo normally, but with the shoes, slightly taller. Hanzo was internally annoyed- being short was something that made him feel mildly inferior. He didn’t let it bother him too much and smiled at the fanciful lady that came clopping down stone stairs and across the front lawn. She met Hanzo at the black iron gates and swung them open with a creek.

Hanzo was underdressed, or so he felt. A white button down and tight black jeans seemed like something appropriate, considering where Hanzo was to take Claire, but he assumed Claire thought it might be somewhere fancier than planned. A sudden bout of insecurity crossed over him, but he swallowed it like a knot.

They had arrived at a semi-formal looking restaurant called Le Soliel Gastronomique. In reality, Hanzo felt that the place always tried to pass off being fancier than it was, but their massive variety and appreciations for larger portions turned them from formal gourmet to semi-formal gourmet- that way it wasn’t uncouth to gorge yourself.

They were seated by a shiny, metallic Omnic who had all the right etiquette and the mildest of manners. Hanzo ordered a rosé wine ( _The only wine he’ll even remotely like_ ), and a small appetizer of Bruschetta. Hanzo was less than interested in talking with Claire. He felt the full effect, ironically, or not feeling anything for the girl at all. Everytime he would come to begin to regret this decision, echoes of Genji’s words, and the discouraging one’s his father spat at him years before clanked against the inside of his skull. The internal conflict distracted him from the useless goings-on of Claire’s day-to-day. To him, her soft, high-pitched voice had become unanimous with the white noise of the world. He was only snapped out of it when he heard his name, muffled in the sound of his thoughts. His attention turned back to the fair Claire, who pointed at the waiter with her eyes and back again. Hanzo cleared his throat.

“Oh, yes, sorry…” He muttered, looking as if he was preoccupied with the menu again, “I will have the Seafood Paella please, and hold the lemon.” He closed the menu. The waiter thanked the two, took up the menu’s and floated away quietly.

With the menu gone, Hanzo was now forced to turn his attention to his thoughts or his date- both were not desired. Claire took another sip of her wine, and cleared her throat. Her brunette hair was spilling over the side of her shoulder like a waterfall of hazelnut silk. She looked at Hanzo, who eyed her back and forth awkwardly.

“Hanzo,” She leaned in on the table, squishing her cleavage- either aware or unaware- tightly together with her shoulders. Hanzo ignored them and acknowledged her call, “You haven’t spoken all night… Not a word… Is there something wrong?” She was genuinely concerned.

Hanzo considered telling her the truth, that he wasn’t interested in her at all. But that same fear anchored him to the bottom of his whirl pooling thoughts. He shook his head, “No Claire, everything is just fine… I’ve just never done this before.” He explained.

Claire smiled and put her hand over his on the table. “Aww, that’s okay Han. I’ll lead the way.” She winked. Hanzo was unamused.

The dinner passed quietly, Claire continued to ramble on, and Hanzo would sometimes acknowledge with a simple _’Mhm’_ or _’Huh’_. Finally the night had dragged on, and Claire had said all she had to say- at least for the moment. Silence took hold, and in an attempt to rekindle the fire that Claire had imagined to have started, she remarked rather vulgarly that she felt as if she was to have a _food baby_ from eating so much. Hanzo found this amusing and raised an eyebrow.

“An Americanism… I never understood such slang.” He shook his head in sarcasm.

“Oh, it means I ate well!” She giggled. He smiled at her. Her laugh was, as Hanzo had thought, very much contagious.

At that moment, Hanzo thought, ‘ _Yes. Maybe this could work. She is beautiful, funny, sociable, and she made him smile._ ’ For the first time, he felt something for her.

With this new feeling inside him, he began to reengage. “So, Claire…” He asked, taking the last sips of the wine from his glass. “Who are you, then?” His question, he felt, gave a sense of mystification. He was interested now. 

Claire gave a nice smile, leaning her chin on her folded hands. “It depends on what you want to know.” Her tone turned more flirtatious.

“Just, anything about you… I am not so accustomed to this sort of interaction.” Hanzo admitted. “Have you been in our school for long?”

Claire gave a shrug, “As long as I can remember.” She sat back, “My dad has made it available, that’s for sure.” She sighed, “He works a lot. I guess I can’t complain though, I’m pretty and wealthy.” She winked and giggled.

Hanzo shook his head, “No, that is incorrect. You can have all of your material needs met and still end up unhappy…” He looked longingly at the glass of wine he gripped with tip of his fingers. He hadn’t noticed that he had dissociated from the situation for a moment. Claire gazed at him for a moment- she hadn’t expected such a genuine answer.

They ate through the rest of the date with little talk as they stuffed themselves with a particularly delicious lava cake. The time had grown later, and Hanzo was going to be busy for the rest of the weekend, training and helping his new friend out. Jesse hadn’t come up in conversation, but had been in the back of Hanzo’s mind the entire night.

The walk back to Claire’s house was cold, and Hanzo graciously gifted his coat to Claire who had been shivering. As they walked, Hanzo contemplated his feelings. Had he really felt connected to Claire? Was it just the relatability, the subtle connection? Something still felt wrong in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn’t place exactly what.

Clair invited her date up to the doorstep, saying that he should accompany her if anything were to happen to her while crossing her 30 meter yard. He laughed and obliged. Claire unhooked his oversized coat from her shoulders and returned it. Their hands bumped, and under the porch light, Claire leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. This was a rare occurrence for Hanzo. He noted that her lips tasted of cherry ( _She excused herself, redid her makeup_ ), were soft and small ( _Like kissing a peach_ ), and warm ( _Challenged the cold night air_ ).

She pulled away a moment later and giggled, “Your lips are glossy now.” Hanzo put a hand to his mouth, dabbing the sticky gloss onto his fingers. He smiled politely, and said goodbye. The walk to his house from there was silent and cold again. The feeling in his stomach had twisted into anxiety and had grown larger than ever before.

He had just made it onto his futon, huffing his breath into the sheets out of tiredness when Masa rang in to tell Hanzo that someone was at the door. Annoyed, thinking it was Genji or one of his lackeys, he begrudgingly paced down the steps to the door. When he opened, he was surprised to see none other than Jesse “Cowboy” McCree.

Upon seeing Hanzo, Jesse laughed and scratched his head, “Heh, sorry it’s late, I know…” He started. Hanzo turned his head in complete confusion- Jesse caught on, “Oh, I uh got yer address from the receptionist at the hotel. Says she loves your family and sends her regards to uh… _Sojiro_.” His accent completely butchered the name.

Hanzo rolled his eyes and took a note to himself; _Make certain the secretary knows addresses are private for a reason_.

While Hanzo was busy taking a mental note, and staring like a fool, McCree further explained himself, “Look, I’m in some trouble… Can I come in maybe?” He asked as he peeked nosily around Hanzo.

The thought of McCree being in trouble made Hanzo’s mind jump start. What had he done? What has he gotten himself into? Despite this, he opened the door wider and let the untidy cowboy in.

McCree looked around as he stepped in, his eyes shined in wonder over the obvious luxury design of the place. Before he could take another step, Hanzo had pushed a palm into his chest and pointed down.

“Shoes. Off.” He stated firmly. McCree put his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say, pardner’.” When the shoes were removed, a small ring came from the foyer, and Masa-chan’s logo appeared on the black tile next to the door. A small sprite bowed in front of the two, “Greetings, stranger.” Her light, robotic voice cheered.

McCree was taken aback. “Y’all got an AI?” He bowed his hat at the sprite. Hanzo nodded, “Yes, this is our housekeeper, Masa.” He introduced her, “Masa-chan, this is Jesse McCree. A friend…” He said the last bit a little slower than he had desired to. The words came out as if they were dry like paper.

Once the introduction was over, and Jesse had stopped nearly drooling over the luxurious abode, Hanzo offered him a cup of instant decaf; to which he graciously accepted. They both sat at the table in the kitchen, and as soon as Hanzo hat sat with his tea, he was all business.

“So then, Jesse McCree, what have you done this time?” He eyed the man.

Jesse put a hand to his left breast, “Whoa there, what makes you think I did somethin’? I didn’t do nothin’!” He defended with a quirky smile.

“So, you did do _something_ then.” Hanzo said, half statement, half question.

“What?” Jesse asked, confused.

“You used a double negative. You did not do nothing, so therefore you did something. What was it?” Hanzo explained.

Jesse face-palmed, “No no, it’s a colloquialism y’see…” He paused for a second to giggle, “We ain’t got time for cultural misinterpretations… Look, someone from my past came back to haunt me. That’s all.” Jesse confessed, his tone more serious than before. “I got approached today while I was off shift smoking a cigar outside my diner. Big Omnic fella’ with a heft drawl. He comes up to me and tells me that I shoulda’ never left. I tell him I ain’t got a damn clue about what he’s sayin’, but then I spot the Deadlock ink on his forearm.” He takes a sip of coffee, “Oh, I never told ya’… I was raised in a gang called the Deadlock. I was one of their attack dogs since I was fourteen. Heard of em?”

Hanzo shakes his head, “I am unaware of any gang of that name… But I think I might be able to find more information on them…” Hanzo sips, listening intently.

“Well, this fella tells me that the boss ain’t so happy when one of his prized sharpshooters runs off lookin’ for a life, and that they’d be in touch… ‘Course, this was after a good, metallic gut punching.” Jesse grabbed his stomach.

Hanzo was amazed at his nonchalant attitude towards this. He had no fear or concern visible at all. It was commonplace for him, this type of behavior. Hanzo knew this meant an entirely new level of trouble. He needed to see what he could do about this.

“I will see to it that you are protected.” Hanzo nodded. McCree was taken aback. “Wait, what? Thought you said your family were business people… Ya gonna hire security for lil’ ole’ me?” He raised an eyebrow. Hanzo shook his head.

“I have a hobby.” Hanzo smiled, joking. “As you’ve seen.” He smirked wider, nearly giggling into his teacup.

“Pfft,” McCree spat, “Listen, I get that you’re a badass, and you kicked my ass, but this is an entire _gang_ I’m dealin’ with here. One guy, no matter how well trained, ain’t gonna stop ‘em all.” McCree sighed and slumped, “Plus, you’ve gone through enough trouble already just tryin’ to help me live a normal life.” He breathed, guilt tugged on his voice. He wasn’t one to turn down charity, but he felt that Hanzo had already given him enough.

This made Hanzo’s heart sink. He thought to himself about how promising everything had been for McCree. He had already helped to straighten his life up, and yet his past mistakes were coming back to haunt him to his grave. He felt connected because of this. Making stupid mistakes because you are young, wanting to change your future. He wouldn’t fully admit it- especially not to himself- but he never _really_ wanted to be the head of the Shimada’s. But it’s all he ever knew. It’s what he was trained for since birth. He shook his head after a moment, and placed a hand on the shoulder of a dejected Jesse.

“I _will_ ensure you are safe. I do not want to see my charity wasted.” He stared with a certain intensity into Jesse’s soul, it made him shiver to the bones. Jesse smiled, a layer of guilt tucked into his subconscious for now.

After they had shared their tea, Hanzo gave him a cot to sleep on, telling him he could stay the night. They would figure out a plan in the morning. As McCree pulled a thick blanket over him to protect from the chilled, autumn air, his thoughts shifted to his friend. Without knowing it, both would have each other as the last conscious thought before sleep tugged them away into another world completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy FUDGE that was a long ass chapter. I spilled so much into it, I didn't realize how much it was till I was finished with it... Perhaps I will not make the next so very long. Anyways, I've got a hell of a lot of writing to do, and I just wanna GET THERE already. You and I BOTH have to wait for the good stuff.
> 
> As usual, if I got any of the languages wrong, please let me know. I'm going by what I looked up on the interwebs for Japanese XD

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I was just writing a second one in my free time because I wanted to experiment with the ideas of Hanzo figuring out that he isn't exactly straight.... hehe, more frustration to come. I totally wrote this out of time-period tbh, I would think in the year 2060(?), even the most horrible of crime-bosses would not really think of homosexuality as being a problem lmao I just did that so that it was easier to express in everyday terms.


End file.
